Lacey

"I'm surprised you agreed to come with."

We had just left the 95 and branched onto Montauk Highway. It was official—I was back in the Hamptons for the first time in seven years. The plan was to never come back—too many memories, both good and bad, and all that hurt. My dad's surprise was nothing compared to my own. It was a last-minute decision. I literally halted his car as he tried to leave and threw my bags into the backseat.

"It's just for a few weeks . . . for Rachel. She came to Michigan after Knox and I split. It's only fair."

"They were together a long time. Right?"

The small talk was awkward. Unfortunately, we still had another hour before we arrived, and he was being chattier than usual. Any sort of discussion about ourselves would make this even more uncomfortable; so why not just discuss my friend's breakup instead?

"Three years."

"Wow. Were they engaged?"

I finally turned to look at him to see if he was serious. When his gray eyebrows lifted, waiting for an answer, I cringed. If Rachel had been here to hear that, she would have ginger-snapped.

"What?" Dad asked, shifting his attention between me and the outstretched road.

"She's twenty-two!"

"So?"

"That's way too young, and three years is not that long."

"I married your mother at twenty-one after knowing her barely a year."

"That's different."

"How so?"

"Because yours was love at first sight."

Silence fell, Dad pinched his lower lip as he agreed, albeit unspoken. It was one of Mom's favorite stories—her chem lab romance. It was their first day of class. She was the first one in the room; he was the last. The only seat left open was beside her, and she looked up at my dashing dad, whose grin instantly "melted" her. They had been midway through a failed lab that shot a pink, sweet-smelling foam from their desk to the ceiling, sending my mom into a serious fit of giggles. The professor asked how my dad had turned a green liquid pink, and my dad answered he had successfully made a love potion and could prove it. He then turned to Mom to share their first, earth-shattering kiss. He only broke it to announce to the room he'd fallen in love. A year later, they married.

"Anyway,"—I attempted to change the subject away from Mom—"you can drop me off at Rachel's. We're going out tonight. Where will I be riding out my hangover tomorrow? Where are we staying?"

"With William Drake."

I choked on the hot Cheetos I had just shoved into my mouth. It took a few smacks to my chest before I could breathe normally, but I still couldn't speak. My esophagus was burning, and my mind was too busy rushing in a million different directions. The one place I wanted to avoid was our old house, and this would put us way too close. Then there was the panic at the thought of seeing Luke . . .

"It's just for the weekend. He wants to talk business, but I haven't agreed to return to run the lab yet. I'm in no rush to work for him again." Dad peered to his right to gauge my expression, surely finding just what he was expecting. "Lucas lives in Chapel Hill. He won't be there."

With my relief came an eye roll. "Of course he does."

North Carolina was only the home of the number one pharmacy program in the country. Ann Arbor was no small feat, either, but it wasn't the same. Chapel Hill was the dream—my mother's alma mater. The place where my parents met. Even with my savings, grants, and letters of recommendation, it wasn't enough to land me a spot in the program. Apparently, if Daddy makes hefty donations, a spot is obtainable.

"You're going to own a company together someday," my dad reminded me. "Eventually, speaking to each other will be a requirement."

I sank farther into my seat, wishing this car ride and discussion were over. "If there's still a company to run by then."

The way I saw it, I wouldn't have to speak to Lucas Drake again for at least three years.

u

My buzz didn't stand a chance against Rachel's. We sat on the floor of her childhood bedroom, where she was now living again, and ate burgers from a local restaurant we'd loved as kids. We washed them down with wine from her parent's wine cellar—too much of it. Unlike my breakup with Knox last year, she seemed to take this well for a girl who had no say in the end of her relationship.

"You really don't know what happened?" I asked, sensing that she had been holding back from me all night.

Rachel shrugged as she twisted the corkscrew. "We made it too complicated."

"He broke up with you, but you say we. And you don't seem to be upset with Chris."

Her cheeks turned the color of her hair. The cork popped free just as she hiccuped and giggled. How was this the same girl who had called me sobbing a mere twenty-four hours ago, saying she'd messed up? What exactly had she messed up?

With a wineglass the size of my head in hand, she stood and opened the doors to a walk-in closet bigger than my college dorm. I had forgotten just how extravagant everything needed to be here. Just in my seven years away, the Meyer home had been renovated to keep up with today's trends—if you could call having every wall, floor, and piece of furniture white a trend. Even the bedroom looked different from when we had played here as kids. Out of all the friends I had made during our four years living here, Rachel was now the only one I still spoke to. Odd, with our lives being so different. I was on the college path, while she had opted for the partying route and skipped college all together—much to her parents' dismay. If I had asked my ten-year-old self which friend I thought I would have for life, the answer would have been much different. In fact, Rachel and I didn't become close again until after my mother's accident. We'd had a long-distance BFF relationship ever since.

"This one." She pulled a silver dress free from the wide array of clothing. It hung by a string no thicker than a shoelace. It was sexy—a cowl neckline with just enough bunched polyester fabric to cover a bustline. Its shiny material looked like it was made of glitter. Rachel swung it around to show the open back. "Your legs and ass will look amazing in this."

"Mine?" I asked, now convinced she was drunk. No way could I pull it off. "That will barely cover my ass."

"That's the point. Duh." She shook the hanger to make the dress shimmer.

"Where exactly are we going tonight? I thought we were hitting the bars? I don't need to be practically naked for those."

"We have to go to Blue. You'll need to be practically naked there. It's more fun that way."

Blue. Only a club would have a name like that. The Hamptons wasn't exactly a beacon for nightlife; unless you counted cocktail and dinner parties to show off your umpteenth home renovation—
I'm sure one was held for the Meyer home. This meant we were leaving the Hamptons tonight.

While I'm used to the partying scene associated with being a college student, partying with Rachel wouldn't be the same. This wouldn't be a college scene. It would be somewhere expensive. Not only would there be a charge to get in but the cost of drinks would likely be triple what I was used to. The entire reason for my dad being back here was a dwindling bank account. The money my mother had saved was nearly gone, and my college fees weren't helping.

"Stop counting dollar signs." The dress was thrown into my lap. "If you wear that dress, you won't be buying your own drinks. The rest is on me. We'll use Dad's driver. We are both getting laid tonight."

I dropped my back to the floor and groaned. She was frustrating. "Rach . . ."

"Don't start with me." She cackled, returning to the closet to find her own ensemble for the night. "You need this just as much as I do."

Guys were so much work. Getting laid was that much extra work. And for what? Not one of them had ever gotten me off during intercourse; not even my ex. So, I was supposed to show myself off like a prized pony, hoping to be picked and taken back to his place just to go home and finish the job myself? My hand and I had a glorious thing going. It hadn't let me down yet; unlike every penis I had met.

Two fingers snapped in front of my face, bringing me back to reality, and I found my best friend bent over me with a new pack of Venus razors. "We are going to drink away the thought of every man who did us wrong until we are carried out of that club like the queens we know we are. Now, get your ass into that shower and shave everything."

I knew better than to argue with her. I took the razors, got to my feet, and took the dress with me.

By the time we were both ready and climbing into the car, it was nearly eleven. What little wine buzz I had had was long gone. The same could not be said for Rachel. I was certain the entire bottle had gone into the shower with her, which no one could fault her for. The girl was hiding just how broken up she was over Chris and was doing a shit job of it. We just didn't handle our breakups the same way. After Knox, I needed Rachel, a binge-worthy TV show with over four seasons, a tub of Ben & Jerry's, and a lot of tissues. Rachel needed dick, and I needed to support that.

She rattled off the address of our destination to her father's driver, confirming that we'd be leaving the Hamptons tonight. And while Rachel rehashed tonight's plan to the woman who would take us to Blue, I was busy watching the New York scenery change back from beach house mansions to the few rare skyscrapers of Long Beach, New York. The buildings only grew in height and width the closer we got. It had been so long since I'd been anywhere near here that it took a mass of traffic behind a stoplight for me to realize just where I was. After we inched our way up a few car lengths, we sat adjacent to a high-rise office building with nothing but windows for walls on its exterior. Its red-and-purple logo beamed so brightly from its top floors that it reflected in the sheen of my dress. Keeping my legs crossed and my dress as far down as I could get it, I scooted myself closer to the window so I could see my name reflected in the red letters.

DRAKE-MASON PHARMACEUTICALS.

It was my mother's legacy; it was my future. And beside it, I felt ridiculously small.

"How bad is it?" Rachel asked, just as the car moved again.

The LED lights left my view, along with the building I hadn't seen in years. "Bad enough they want my dad to reopen the lab."

"Would he seriously do that?"

I shrugged. I never thought so, but my dad was here and willing to discuss it. He had held a grudge against William Drake for years after the closing of the department he managed. The entire business had grown from the lab. Dad didn't speak about it much, but when he did, it came with a serious dose of pent-up hostility. Drake-Mason had begun with three people and ended with two. William Drake purchased Mason Labs, my father's research combined with my mom's pharmacy and business knowledge, and thus, Drake-Mason Pharmaceuticals came to be. In three years, I was due to inherit the shares my mother had set aside for me, along with her own, which were currently held by a trust. My dad's shares were long gone—sold to cover our bills throughout the years. As of right now, Drake-Mason was a sinking ship. I was close to losing another piece of my mother, and the thought of it made my stomach churn.

"You know what, Rach? Maybe drinks and someone to take my mind off things might be good after all."

Our car came to a stop. The change in Rachel's posture accompanying her excitement agreed. "Oh, you're going to thank me tomorrow after you get some."

We'll see. I wouldn't be holding my breath. If I got laid, great. If not, fine. Either way, I wouldn't go out of my way to impress any guy tonight. Rachel was right—they could come to me. And the way Rachel had dressed us, I was sure the only time I'd need my wrist wallet was for my ID.

We both exited from my door, stepping onto the curb outside a club labeled Blue but intentionally lit in neon pink. I was questioning their choice of signage while being dragged to the front of a line that currently wrapped around the side of the building.

"Meyer," Rachel said confidently as she strode past the bouncer, her hand still gripped tightly around my wrist and leaving me no choice but to follow. She didn't even give the guy a chance to look at the clipboard he was holding, but he also didn't argue with her. One look at Rachel and her last name were all it took to get us to the doors. "You're in for a treat, Lacey Jo!" she shouted.

I could already feel the pulsing beat of the music beneath my feet, and we weren't even inside yet. A second bouncer pulled one side of a double door open for us. My wrist was tugged again, and this time, Rachel turned to wiggle her brows just before entering a club of people swinging their bodies in a sea of blue lights. Now I understood the choice of my silver and her white dress. We were sure to stick out in the crowd.

"No Hamptons boys!" I yelled above the music while weaving through the dancing bodies that packed the place.

Rachel smiled wickedly ahead of me. "I didn't know their tongues felt any different!"

I was sure she was right, and they wouldn't feel any different. But I also didn't need those tongues using talk of their trust funds as a way into my bubble tonight. My mind needed a rest from the topic of money, and I knew a few drinks would give me that break. The offers began before we even reached the bar.